


cotton wool

by Russy



Series: Dadriel ficlets [2]
Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dad Lord Asriel, Dadriel, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21832333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Russy/pseuds/Russy
Summary: Lyra was there, on the long hallway between the rooms. She was on her knees, gasping next to a moth Pantalaimon, who was rapidly circling her. She'd started to stand up, wobbly, before Asriel rushed next to her to help, holding Lyra steadily by the upper parts of her arms.
Relationships: Lord Asriel & Lyra Belacqua
Series: Dadriel ficlets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666882
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	cotton wool

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my second fic (dadriel again) and I realised it's similar to the first one, but that's mainly because this is my jam, y'know? Anyways enjoy! Thoughts, suggestions, requests are appreciated.

The chilly wind was swiping through the late afternoon sky, leaving behind gushes of fluttering, dried leaves. The sky was blood-orange, turning into a greying, dark blue around the edges. It was just past the middle of autumn, and the weather was starting to turn.

Lord Asriel was sitting at the darkwood, heavy desk at the end of his study, scribbling away in a leather bound notebook. Dozens of piles of papers and stacks of notebooks and diaries were littered about, around and on the desk. He'd decided, after starting his latest draft for a project in experimental physics, to go over all of his past papers and notes on the matter, to see if he could find anything of use. He'd been at it for hours now, and he had barely filled a page's worth of somewhat worthwhile notes. Asriel was starting to get frustrated, it seemed like almost nothing he'd ever done in the field, up to that point, was even starting to brush about the particular reactions he was working with now.

He sighed, rubbing at a temple. He glanced towards Stelmaria, who was laying down in front of the fireplace on her favorite, soft rug. He could see her silvery, spotted head settled on top of her heavy front paws, her green-gold eyes blinking lazily and indifferent.

Before going back to his notes, he caught a glimpse of a framed picture, proped upwards on his desk. It was of Lyra, lovely Lyra, then 6 years old and with tenacious, darkened strands of wavy hair about her tiny face. She had her head turned, slightly, her attention on something outside of the frame. She always had been like that, he thought, autonomous, a little person on her own. But lots of things had changed, too. She was here, now, with him and not at Jordan College. And she no longer called him uncle, a pleasant accomplishment that lacked the horrible consequences he'd been so vividly imagining it would have.

Lord Asriel closed his eyes momentarily before standing, turning to walk out of the study and into the hallway. Stelmaria followed, gently rumbling at her human.

He turned towards a livingroom, with a velveteen, dark couch and matching armchairs surrounded by tall, sturdy windows. Asriel looked outside, to the settling, barely visible autumn sun, when he heard a bang, followed by a thump and a sharp whimper behind him. He whipped around, instantly, and Stelmaria narrowed her eyes and perked up her ears.

Lyra was there, on the long hallway between the rooms. She was on her knees, gasping next to a moth Pantalaimon, who was rapidly circling her. She'd started to stand up, wobbly, before Asriel rushed next to her to help, holding Lyra steadily by the upper parts of her arms.

She'd tripped and fallen, gashing the soft, elastic skin on her knees on a rough carpet. 

"Lyra..." Asriel said, carefully.

Lyra looked up at him, and Asriel took her wrist and walked her to a kitchen. He picked her up under the armpits and lifted her onto a countertop. 

Lord Asriel turned around, rummaging through a couple of darkwood, wall mounted cabinets before retriving a white metal box. Inside, Lyra could see now, were pills and bottles and rolls of gauze. Asriel took a brown paper bag from the box, taking out a few balls of cotton-wool from it and dampening them with rubbing alcohol. He pressed them gently against the blood littered scratches on Lyra's knees, holding her legs by the backs of the calves and being mindful or her shudders.

"There, it's alright" said Asriel, throwing away the cotton. Pantalaimon, now a white fox, was nuzzling softly into Stelmaria's side.

Lyra slid down from the counter, and Asriel smoothed back her hair, gently.

"M'sorry" she said.

"It's fine, Lyra, you don't need to apologise for things like these. Come, now, why don't you tell me about what you've been doing today?"

It would be fine, he knew.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is rrusi-writes, if you wanna request something or just chat.


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